Thursday, October 15, 2009

He listened, her theory was true. She had trusted him to prevent her from hitting the ground, and he had done just that. He had done that as well when he second guessed himself when he tried kill t’Rehu. He tensed slightly still shaking as he watched her hand approach him, ‘She promised, she promised she wouldn’t touch my mind! She lied!’ but then she stopped. He relaxed slightly, and tried to stop his shaking though it wasn’t as bad it was moments ago. “Fear is an irrational emotion.” He answered back and slowly extended his hands to her, “You won’t…” he started saying but stopped in fear of offending her. “I won’t be able to sense anything Sakarra. You are blank to me, even more so than before.” He said quietly.

“If you are so certain of that, why do you even try?” In many ways, this was going to be even more difficult. It was merely her stubborn determination, the wish to not see any more harm coming to this one, that overrode the strong desire to keep her thoughts sheltered, her privacy intact. Still, there was a tiny reflexive cringe when his cool fingertips came to rest against her warm hands and Sakarra mildly chided herself for this illogical reaction. Certainly, it was natural for two minds to reach out at the same time, to intertwine and share, taking joy in the difference of the other. But it was not completely unnatural either for this sharing to be one-sided.

Relaxing both her body and mind, she sent out the small telepathic ‘nudge’ that a Betazoid would recognize as another person’s ‘Hello, here I am’ and then slowly retreated. Like a ship with full running lights broadcasting her ID, laying out a trail of lights to follow, or like a person standing in the open door of her house, waving for a guest to walk up the path and enter the brightly lit foyer, she waited. “Many things are irrational. Fear, regret, hope. What matters is how we deal with either, Cyrin Dicari.”

“I try because it is a potential way to help me out.” He answered her. As his hands fingertips rested on her hands he felt her cringe. “Sakarra if you would rather not…” he started letting her know that he didn’t want to put her in an awkward situation. He sat there waiting for something to happen, he felt her body relax but nothing. He tried to immolate her method by relaxing his body, closing his eyes he focused on her hands and the warmth of them. But nothing, which was starting to frustrate him. Opening one eye he looked at her, “Love?” He asked out of nowhere trying to hide his frustration of not being able to ‘connect’ with her mentally.

“Yes.” She said levelly. “So marvelously irrational in all it’s manifestations, no?” Sakarra could tell from his face alone that he was getting frustrated again, trying too hard and still running in circles. How much easier would it be to simply reach out and dive into that troubled mind, so like a turbulent ocean with restless waves clouding the waters, and show it how to be still. Such a thin veil only that one would have to push through, brush aside whatever feeble resistance there might be. So terribly, horrifyingly easy.

She realized she had been tensing up and inhaled, focusing her eyes on his. “You have been to Betazed, yes? I know your file states you grew up on Terra. But if you have ever experienced a rainstorm, be it in the mountains of Vathax or on your father’s homeworld, I want you to remember what it was like. I want you to think of the winds and the water, the trees straining under the onslaught.” In her own thoughts a memory took shape, the scent of trees and mud and Toyar blossoms and the deafening roar of thunder. “They come fast in the Vathax mountains, one minute there are only pink clouds in a soft sky, and the next you are lost in a world of noise and water. And if the rain doesn’t blind you, the wind and the lightning will. I have seen people familiar with every stone on their way getting lost and clinging to trees, desperate for the storm to subside. But sometimes it is more dangerous to wait than just try and find your way home. Your best chance however is to have a friend nearby, for the old phrase of four eyes seeing more than two can mean the difference. In this case, quite literally between life or a sudden death in a mudslide. So what will you do, Cyrin, when a world you thought you knew turns into a raging chaos around you? You can run, panic, shout, but the storm will always be louder than you and too large to outrun. Or will you stop, just for a minute, and allow a friend to find you? A friend who knows that a Fogcat’s call will echo even through the thunder and the rain, and is calling for you? Be still. Listen.”

Just a little ‘louder’ this time, more a gentle push than a nudge. ‘Hear me.’

He listened to her analogy, which sounded just like his mind. Closing his eyes again he waited…and waited. He pictured himself in the type of storm she was referring to, made himself stop. But instead of wind and rain it was anger, fear, hatred, frustration, love, joy, and confusion all wrapped into one; swirling around him like a tornado. His body shuddered at the thoughts. As the ‘storm’ became stronger the vortex passed over him and he saw the faces of all those he cared for and those he lost, those he hated all screaming at him…yelling…deafening, overwhelming. He couldn’t piece together their words. When one voice small though it was came through…Sakarra’s. Unable to handle the overload he let go of her hands, screaming above the noise only he could hear. “SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!!!” His eyes still shut, the noise still plowing through his mind like a freight train, Sakarra’s voice faded into the cacophony of it all.

“Fascinating.” Sakarra tilted her head to the side, Cyrin’s loud voice still ringing in her ears. Very well, this was quite enough. There was a limit to how much a Betazoid’s mind and body could withstand, and while she was rather going to jump out of an airlock than break her promise to leave his mind untouched, physical interference was another matter.

Shrugging off the heavy overcoat, Sakarra leaned towards the distressed young Betazoid, her hands moving under the open uniform jacket. Thankfully, his physiology was Betazoid enough for her to find the correct nerve endings without much trouble. “Vas’uh. Fa-wak ri’dash-tor nash-veh.” Instinctively falling into her native language might not be entirely helpful, but to the young Vulcan’s silent amusement, it succeeded at least in making him blink for a second. The gentle pressure of her hands as well as the mild but stern tone of her voice made it quite clear that she was not going to put up with any nonsense right now. “Vas’uh.” There. That should be… right. His violent shuddering finally subsided, only to be replaced by a severe tensing of every muscle in the young man’s body. He made a move as if wanting to push her away, despair radiating off him in waves and surges. “Four Deities, Cyrin. I could have harmed you long ago if I ever had any such intentions.” Swiftly moving her hands up to his shoulders, she squeezed ever so slightly and felt his body relax in response. A little too much maybe, because he nearly fell against her. At least his breathing was starting to normalize.

As Sakarra succeeded in stopping his shuddering, and yet caused him to become even more tense physically than what he already was, he became frightened. As he attempted to push her away, he heard her voice. As he went to go say something, he felt her hands on his shoulders a slight pressure, and then his body relaxed. His breathing resuming to normal, he looked up at her, not sure what to say or how to say it. If he wasn’t so damned relaxed he would be very frustrated. “I…I…I don’t know what just happened.”

“If you are referring to your emotional turmoil,” Sakarra gently retreated when she was sure the young man was not going to topple over and then retrieved her overcoat “it was simply proof of your Betazoid heritage. Not only did you reach a meditative state with unusual speed, but as Betazoids are prone to do, lost yourself in it. Usually, this is desired and healthy, however in this case I had hoped you might reach out before the inevitable ‘overload’. I must ask you to forgive me for not interfering when I could have, however weighing your reluctance to allow a mind touch versus you having to endure the experience, I chose my previous promise over my wish to render assistance.“

The young Vulcan got up in a fluent move of rustling robes and flowing hair and picked the two now cold glasses of Jestral tea before walking over to the replicator. “If you are referring to the neuropressure, I believe you could refer to that as ‘damage control’. From experience with my Betazoid family I know they tend to find it pleasant, however if I crossed any personal boundaries, I must again ask forgiveness. My only excuse, if you will, was a profound desire to minimize your suffering.” She replicated two fresh teas and then stood for a moment, tilting her head at the exhausted looking Cyrin. “Unless you are comfortable in this position, which I find rather doubtful, please don’t hesitate to find another spot more to your liking.”

=/\=

Ensign Cyrin Dicari

Chief Operations Officer

U.S.S. Charon

&

=/\=

Lieutenant (Then Ensign) Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helms-Vulcan

U.S.S. Charon

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Fogcat - Large predator native to Betazed, rather like an oversized, gray-white tiger.